


Bloody knuckles

by YouMeAtNope



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Death, Family debt, Fighting, Gangs, Illegal Fighting, M/M, Payment, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 02:53:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3340904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouMeAtNope/pseuds/YouMeAtNope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How ironic it'd be for a father to be killed by his son after pushing him into a life he wanted no part in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloody knuckles

**Author's Note:**

> My friend gave me the idea of Eren being forced to join a gang, The Titans, after his father owed them a large sum of money. Illegal fighting seemed suitable.

**Eren**

My eyes felt heavy, painfully heavy as I awoke and stared up at the charred ceiling, smoke whisps drifting through the air as the small fire at the corner of my room burnt away within the small metal can filled with paper and other flammable materials I managed to get my hands on. It wasn't particularly warm, regardless of the fire burning. The burn marks on the ceiling were from the previous tenants, a family of junkies that decided to build a pyre in the middle of the room to keep the cold away during the cold winter nights. Fortunately, the house didn't burn down; and the people inside didn't die, but the room was trashed. 

With a few hundred dollar's worth of paint and new building materials, the room would have been as good as new; but paint was a luxury we just couldn't afford. I pressed a hand to my forehead and rubbed small circles into the flesh with my fingertips as I coughed into the collar of my shirt; choking on the fumes of the smoke. 

 We lived in fear of The Titans, a gang that followed us wherever we went. At first, they just followed my father, but as time passed they began to follow me and my sister. Thankfully, she managed to escape the city, moved in with a couple of childhood friends. But then they were slaughtered, murdered in cold blood by The Titans. Mikasa, my sister escaped, and killed two of their members in the turmoil. They resented her for that.

My father guarded the front door to our ramshackle apartment, a low quality air rifle always in hand wherever he went. He said he was trying to protect me, but I had a feeling that I was just there to stop him from giving in. If I was with him I could pay his debts off. Unfortunately, I was correct.

 

It was later that day that I finally managed to escape the apartment, climbing out of the window in the process and slipping down the drainpipe that ran down the side of the building. My stomach growled almost violently as I pulled up the hood of my dirty blue hoodie, my thumbs sticking through the material through make-shift thumb holes. Every sound that sounded around the city made me jump, halt and stop in my tracks. With every step I took, I felt my vision grow blurry and my hearing fade in and out as adrenaline and blood pumped through my veins. 

The rumbling in my stomach racked my form in painful tremors and I stopped numerous times to lean against dumpsters and walls to brace myself as I held back sounds of pain. That's what I felt; pain. My body achedd. Everything ached. I resented my father for putting us into this position, my mother was forced into prostitution; or so I was told, my sister had gone into hiding and my father was more or less holding me hostage.

The Titans were keeping tabs on us, waiting for us to make the next move. They hadn't found us, or even caught up to us for a while, and I had an inkling that I was free; that I was finally safe. I honestly believed that The Titans wouldn't be able to find me. I cut my hair, syled it myself and it didn't look half bad; but my clothes were another story.

I had one set of clothes, a set that I was forced to wear day in and day out, and I could only wash them when my dad was off out somewhere; whether it be drinking himself to death on money we didn't have or laying with an assortment of women. He had really let himself go ever since my mom had left, and I _did_ blame him for it. If he never screwed up in the first place then she wouldn't have left, Mikasa wouldn't be a target and I wouldn't have been held hostage in my decrepit apartment.

 

Now that I look back on it, I wish I had never left the house that morning. I wish that I had remained in bed, allowed the fire to burn out of control and burn me to death. I wasn't expecting a hulk of a guy with blonde hair to mosey on down the alley, and I definitely wasn't expecting a dirty black van to screech down behind him, people barrelling out of the vehicle with an assortment of monster like masks covering their faces. The blond wore a mask that looked like it was made of numerous armoured panels, covering the recognisable features of his face whilst making him seem even more threatening.

The monster masks that the people wore were trademark masks, those belonging to The Titans. 

_Oh shit._

Hands grasped me from behind, whilst a gag was unexpectedly rammed into my mouth, keeping me from screaming out and biting my tongue; but I still had the ability to groan out against the material and kick at my attackers.

"You little shit, you're going to wish you hadn't done th-"

His voice was cut off by the blonde as he barked out an order, forcing the members to pick me up and carry me to the van. I looked around, kicking and throwing punches like I was taught; but they had been fighting for years, they knew what they were doing. A blonde woman with blue harsh eyes and a pink mask that appeared to be grafted from human skin stared across at me, and nodded at the person that held me, her hand had caught my fist as I attempted to overthrow my opponent.

Her face contorted beneath the mask, as if she had been smiling. She slowly blinked and I felt the person behind me let go and step away, causing me to falter slightly as I was no longer held upright by their grasp. The blonde raised her fists to her chin, moving into a fighting stance as she shifted and suddenly turned; leg flying out as she sent a hard kick to my stomach. The action was enough to send me falling to the ground and I merely grunted a reply, my hands falling out in front of me to brace myself in order to take the shock of the impact; but my hands were ripped away from me as they were tied behind my back, my face slammed into the concrete.

 

 A cry slipped from my lips and I squeezed my eyes shut as I screamed out,

"Dad! Anyone! P-Please! Help..." The assault continued, a foot pinning my face down against the harsh ground. I knew that struggling was pointless, that this group of hitmen could easily slit my throat and leave me there to bleed; but they had other plans for me.

"No one is going to save you, kid." The woman murmured, her voice just breaking through my sobs.

Voices sounded left, right and centre and the hulk-like blonde shouted out a final order to have me taken to the van. His voice was harsh, strong and it echoed around the walls of the alley. The guy from before yanked me up from the ground whilst murmuring an apology, threw me over his shoulder and kept my legs held tight against him with an arm as he carried me towards the van. The last remaining members of The Titans followed behind us as I was carried to the van and thrown inside, rolled over and smashed into the heavy panels within the vehicle.

Sobs were escaping me by this point, and I was determined to stay conscious as I listened to the occasional piece of information I was fed by the members that were gathered within the van.

"Your daddy allowed you to leave, he knew we were in the area."

"Your daddy let this happen to you."

"He wanted you gone."

"Your old man betrayed you, kiddo."

 

I didn't want to believe the words, and I could only close my eyes and tremble as I held back cries of anguish. I wouldn't put it past my father; the man was a raging asshole, and I expected no less. He knew that having me caught would mean that he'd be left alone by The Titans, but that fact alone meant that I would have to do everything any of them told me to do. My father had told me many times before, that if I was faced with the order to strip and kneel then I would strip and kneel. If I was ordered to fight, I'd fight. And if I was ordered to kill... Well, that's what I'd have to do.

It was a sickening thought, and it was something that I didn't want to do. I wanted to die, I wanted to kill every last one of them. Everyone knew that the most merciful death from The Titans would be to die by the hands of one of their fighters, they'd allow you to starve otherwise. You'd be tortured, starved, beaten and god knows what else. It wasn't a life, it wasn't a life for anyone. It was a disgusting way to live; if you could even call it living.

The Titans brought death and distruction, and I repeated this thought in my head to block out the taunts of the gang members until the blonde ordered them to stop. They did so, albeit defiantly. Not one of them seemed pleased about being silenced, and I almost wished for someone to speak; as the silence within the van was nauseating. Tall, blonde and handsome seemed to have understood this, and broke the tension and silence by turning on the radio and playing an upbeat sounding song with a decent drumbeat and guitars.

I hadn't heard music for a very long time, apart from the times that I would sing or hum to myself as I watched the sun move in the sky along with the clouds as the rain clouds rolled over and sent the sky into darkness. People lived in fear, even those that didn't owe The Titans anything. They feared stepping out of line, doing the slightest thing wrong to alert the attention of the gang. You were stupid for not being wary at most, if not all, times. Being wary was the life that we all had to live.

With every pothole we drove over, I was sent bumping against the inside of the van, sometimes bumping into one of the guys inside. Some would kick me away, some would brace me so I wouldn't be sent flying into someone else. After a short while, I was brought into a sitting position and held up by the back of my shirt; preventing me from falling straight onto my face. I was almost grateful for that. The wounds on my face were stinging, and the heat rolling down my face made me question whether it was my own tears or my own blood.

The kindness of The Titans only stretched so far, as no one wiped the liquid from my face. I didn't blame them, I wouldn't want to wipe the blood from someone's face and make myself as equally dirty.

 

The van abruptly stopped with a jolt, causing me to fall forward slightly, only to be yanked back by the hand that held my hoodie. The motion caused me to choke slightly as the material tightened around my throat, but I was soon free from the tightening sensation as I was let go. A voice soon sounded from the front of the van and I listened as the blonde spoke.

"What do you want, Ymir?"

"You've gotta be careful, they're closing in on us again; they must have saw you pick up the kid. Just take the van down the back alley and get him in as quick as you can, cover his face if you need to. He can't be seen." The mysterious person spoke in to low tone, but it wasn't difficult to tell that this person was female. 

The blonde and whoever was in the front with him sighed simultaneously, causing the members in the back to look at each other with similarly fearful expressions as they took in his words.

"Alright, we'll be there soon. Watch out for yourself."

 

"Always do, chief."

 

The van pulled on forward and after a while the driving became less smooth, and bumpier. _This must be the back alley._ Personally, I wished for this other group to find us. Whoever they were, they must have known I was taken, and they'd surely be able to rescue me. But then again, maybe they wanted me for their own twisted plans.

Everyone knew that The Titans would recruit new members to fight for them in backstreet alleys, or anywhere where a fight was required. I had never seen them fight, but I knew that they were known for winning. The winner would be the last one alive, and that was why it was illegal to fight in such a way. They weren't said to be murderers, as fighting to the death seemed apparently better than straight up murdering someone; which was pretty much what they were doing anyway.

It couldn't have been that long before the van stopped and the back doors were thrown open, flooding the van with sunlight. I was yanked from the confines of the vehicle and dragged backwards, my feet slamming against the floor as I wasn't given the chance to move out of the van on my own accord. The guy that originally held me back in the alley shot forward, his sinewy mask still present on his face as he reached out for me and pulled me from the person that grabbed me from behind.

"What do you think you're doing?" The guy from behind me growled. The man before me merely rolled his eyes and pulled me in close to him as he turned me around, covered my eyes with a hand and led me forward with a seemingly gentler grip. I did struggle at that point, as I was being taken somewhere I didn't know; I had no idea where I was, and I wasn't about to go down without a fight.

 

 I was guided into the building, gently pushed and nudged into the right directions before the man's large hand fell from my eyes and he instead held his palm against my shoulder as we moved down the corridor. The walls were dark, covered in various photos and paintings that looked like they were extremely valuable. The walls themselves were mainly made up of exepensive looking wooden panels, some sections being coated in light brown patterened wallpaper. The style reminded me of my home - the home I had before we were all forced into hiding; before I lost my mother and sister, before my father betrayed me.

We suddenly stopped and I stared blankly at a door before us, and the blonde male stepped forward and knocked on the door before opening it and entering. I faultered for a moment, not wanting to enter. The guy from before gently squeezed my shoulder and I took that as a sign to step inside. Once inside the room, I stared across at a middle aged looking man with greying hair and a moustache. He slowly lifted his head to look up at us, and he soon jumped.

"Jesus Christ, what have I told you guys about wearing those damn masks inside?" He hissed, holding a hand to his chest as he regained his breath. The blonde laughed and I watched as the female and other male untied and unzipped their masks and held them down by their sides. The blonde had one of those strong, jock looking faces; he looked like the older brother of some nerd at high school that seemed to be bullied by him.

The blonde woman had thin lips and a pale face, and she had small lines in her face where the material of her mask had been digging in. She rubbed at the marks for a moment and soon glared across at me, seeminly clenching her mask tighter in a silent gesture of warning. Her blue eyes were harsh, and I found myself immeditately averting my gaze. The man that held me before had relenquished his grip on my shoulder and moved to my left, now allowing me to look at his features. He had light green eyes and a pale, long face that seemed even paler due to his dark hair. His eyes were kind, and I almost felt grateful that he was _kind_ enough to guide me on his own accord. I didn't particularly want to be dragged through the halls by my throat, as I was sure the guy before would have done if our meeting at the van was enough to go by.

 

"So, is this him?" The man with the moustache asked.

The blonde merely hummed a reply before murmuring, "Yes, sir."

"Good..."

The man stopped forward and moved around his desk as he advanced towards me. I then averted my gaze to the floor, staring down at the small patterns in the wood beneath my feet.

"And you're sure it's him?"

 

"Sir, his father told us his exact description, he looks like his father, so-"

"I LOOK NOTHING LIKE THAT BASTARD!" I roared, feeling the blood boil in my very veins. _How dare they say I look anything like that bastard?_

It was at that moment that my shirt was gripped and I went to hold my hands up, but only felt the pull of the ropes on my wrists. The man merely shook me, and quite violently, may I add. I was half expecting the brunette to leap forward and stop the man from rooting me around, but instead, he was rooted to his spot and he stared down at the floor.

"Ah, you certainly have Grisha's fire; I'll give you that, boy." Mr Moustache murmured. I clenched my fist at his statement and glared at his hands, warning him to let go of me. Thankfully, he did let go of my shirt and took a step back as he popped a question,

"What's your name, boy?"

The silence I gave him only seemed to irritate him, and he raised an eyebrow in warning. I reacted to his gesture and took it upon myself to finally talk.

 

"Eren. Eren Jaeger, sir."

 

He hummed and crossed his arms over his chest, looking up at me with a thoughtful expression before leaning against his desk.

"Do you have any idea why we've brought you here, Eren?" I swallowed and grimaced at the foul taste of blood in my mouth, before I replied.

"My father stole a great amount of money from you, and the bastard allowed me to be taken away so _he_ could avoid paying back the money _he_ stole." The man smirked and looked across at the blonde, nodded and soon started speaking once more.

"Kid's got some spunk, I'll give him that."

 

The blonde shrugged a wordless reply, and blondie number two soon piped up as she adressed the old man.

"Sir, what are we going to do with him?" The man slowly turned his head to face her, a smile playing on his lips as he walked back around his desk and dropped down into his chair, propped his feet up on the desk and put his hands behind his head.

"He's going to become one of you." He quipped, a maddeing look in his eyes as he nodded and the brunette then untied my hands and ravelled the rope up before holding it in his left palm.

"Ah, thank you, Bertolt."

The blonde woman made a small sound of confusion as she stepped forward towards the desk and whispered.

"What...?"

With a slow blink the man soon tilted his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

 

"I said, he's going to become one of you. He's going to fight." _I am still here, you know?_

A trace of anger crossed the blonde's face, and the brunette, Bertolt, looked down at the floor; closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. The blonde clenched her fists and slammed them down on the desk, a heavy thud sounding through the room as she then took to almost screaming at the man.

"We all know you're a crazy old bastard, but making a child fight? That's what he is, a child! What is he going to achieve by fighting on our side? He couldn't even fight me off, so how do you expe-"

The man shot forward and I watched as he raised a hand and slapped the blonde across the face, causing her head to turn to the side from the impact. The sound was enough to make me flinch and I sunk down into my hoodie as I clenched my fists and swallowed.

"If you dare talk down to me, Annie, I won't refrain from having you killed." He gripped the front of the white hoodie she wore beneath her black jacket and pulled her forward, whispering something into her ear. Annie noticeably stiffened at his words and slowly nodded, almost feafully. The man let go of her and smiled, as a loving grandfather would, and allowed her to move back as she stepped back by Bertolt's side; a bright red mark marring her pale flesh.

"Take him to his room, he starts training tomorrow. That'll be all, Reiner." The blonde male sighed and nodded once. Annie was the first to exit the room, but she didn't move too far from us.

 

 

On the way to my room we walked in a group of four, an uncomfortable silence drifting over us before Bertolt asked Annie if she was okay. The question only caused Reiner to roll his eyes as he whispered,

"All he injured was her pride, she knows better than to talk back to him." Annie tsked a rather miffed reply and then we were standing at the door to my room. Bertolt was the one to lead me inside, show me around and tell me that he'd be back in the morning to take me down for breakfast. Annie and Reiner stood outside the door as Bertolt placed a hand on my shoulder and offered me a sad smile before leaving and gently closing the door behind himself.

The very instant the door shut I broke down, fell down onto my knees and pressed my palms to my face as I sobbed into my hands. My father had betrayed me, my mother would be disappointed in me. My sister wouldn't know where I was. I'd have to fight, I'd have to kill. This was a life my father forced me into, and from that very moment I was thankful that I had been forced to join The Titans. I'd be able to find my father and watch the light fade from his eyes. How ironic it'd be for a father to be killed by his son after pushing him into a life he wanted no part in.

"How very ironic, indeed."

 

 

 


End file.
